


what happens in the closet (stays in the closet)

by Yikes (CoralFlower)



Series: soonhoon? [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Begging, Biting, Bottom Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Choking, Dirty Talk, Humor, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manhandling, Minor Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, POV Second Person, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Smut, Subspace, Top Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/Yikes
Summary: (Soonyoung's POV; don't skip it just cus it's second person, I'm a competent writer. You won't be confused.)You hold Jihoon's phone up just long enough for realisation to dawn on his face and then take off running, and he shouts after you indignantly as you sprint down the hall and take refuge behind the community room couch, which currently holds Mingyu, Vernon, and Chan. The three of them exchange glances, silently electing Mingyu to ask what the fuck.“Is that Jihoon-hyung’s phone?” he asks, and you grin, holding a finger to your lips to indicate the need for silence.“Aren’t you worried he’ll murder you, Soonyoung-hyung?” Vernon says conversationally.You smirk, and say,“He’ll have to pull his pants up first.”Chan’s eyes widen.“Did you walk in on him--” he begins, and then cuts himself off, apparently unable to continue. He makes a jerking off motion, and you snort.“Something like that."(soonhoon fuck in jihoon's closet and then hosh steals jihoon's phone)





	what happens in the closet (stays in the closet)

**Author's Note:**

> this has almost the exact same kinks as the other soonhoon ive written... 
> 
> also the reason they fuck in a closet is jihoon doesnt wanna get the carpet in his room dirty and his closet has tile
> 
> this has a vague reference to the first work in this series but u dont have to read that to understand this

Deep breaths. You take deep breaths, and shut your eyes even though it’s dark in the closet, which is bigger than your average supply closet, but small enough that you can hear Jihoon breathing as he carefully binds your hands behind your back. You feel yourself sinking into it a little-- a lot, actually, so much that you let out an involuntary whimper when, near the end of the tie, he fumbles with the rope, and it loosens enough that he’s definitely going to have to start over.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, babe, it’s just... I can’t stop thinking about what I want to do to you.”

Oh fucking hell.

“What,” you begin, voice cracking, and then swallow. “What do you want--”

He shushes you, not sharply or irately, just asking you to quit talking, and you hush right up, mouth snapping shut. You feel strangely full this way, just from being cut off in the middle of a sentence. It’s... it’s really good. 

“Don’t distract me,” he says, and you sigh softly. 

His hands are confident despite his mistake, and it’s almost better when you get to feel the rope twisting around your wrists twice instead of just once. You know this tie by heart; not how to tie it, because that’s Jihoon’s job, but the way it feels going on. You know the pauses where the rope touching you doesn’t move, where he’s doing something at some other place along it, and you know the way it slides over your skin as he pulls out the slack. It always puts you under, but you feel twice as deep right now from the repetition.

“How’s that,” he asks, and you hum in concentration, trying to drag yourself up enough to figure it out--

“I-- I dunno. I like it lots?”

“Is it too tight?”

You chew on your bottom lip and test it, sinking deeper into the easy stillness of being his when the knot holds, and holds well. Which you knew it would, but feeling it is a completely different thing.

“It’s fine, I think,” you say. “Um-- thank you.”

He sounds amused when he speaks, and you feel yourself dropping further just listening to him. It’s a little unnerving.

“You’re welcome.”

“Fuck,” you say shakily. “Nh, I’m-- Jihoon, I-- what should, I mean-- sorry, I just feel so deep already and I, I never get this way so quick, what do I do?”

He hums, thinking, and you shiver. 

“Do you like being this deep?”

You nod, a little uncertain.

“I think so. It’s just different and I’m-- unh, I-- I guess I’m kinda scared it’ll be too intense?”

“I’ll take care of you, babe,” he assures you, voice low and smooth, and you make a sound that’s almost a sob. “We can stop or take a break if you ever need to or want to, okay?”

“Even if I want to stop now?” you ask, voice small, needing to test it even though you definitely want to keep going. 

“Yes,” he promises. “Whatever would be best for you.”

“Ok,” you say, testing the rope again with a breathy moan. “Let’s, um, keep going.”

“And you’ll tell me if you want to stop or take a break, right?”

“Mm, yeah,” you say, nodding. 

“Good,” he praises you, and your mind goes blank for a second or two. 

“Jihoonie,” you gasp, struggling uselessly against the rope on your wrists. “Please.”

“Please?” he purrs behind you, and you melt against the closet door at the power in his voice. “What are you asking for?”

You sob, and try to grind back against him, but he catches your ass and shoves your hips into the door. You forget how to breathe for just a moment. You love it when he shoves you around. 

“Please _anything_ , babe, just, _please_.”

He chuckles, then, and you inhale sharply, wondering if maybe you should have been more specific. 

“You have lube?”

You nod, moving your hips back again and gasping when he shoves them back against the door with a slight growl, punctuating the motion with a bite to your neck. 

“Shit, yeah, in my pocket. Front left.”

“Oh,” he mutters, and lets you move your hips back away from the door to reach into your pocket for you and fish out the lube. Something else clatters to the ground, and in the dark you can’t tell what it was (probably your chapstick), but you don’t really care, either. “What about condoms?”

“Damn,” you sigh, and then whimper. “We don’t _need_ ,” you start to say, but he cuts you off. 

“Hosh, you can’t honestly be telling me you want to clean my cum out of your ass afterwards.”

You make a face, and try to elbow him, because that’s the least sexy thing he’s ever said while he still had you tied up. Rather predictably, it doesn’t quite work. 

“Okay but-- what _can_ we do?”

“Well, I can run and grab a condom--”

“No,” you say immediately, “That’s a hard no, I’m not okay being left alone tied up in a closet.”

“I won’t, then. Um, here,” he says, undoing your zipper and shoving your pants down, and fuck, it’s always so hot how you have to rely on him for everything like this, even getting undressed. You moan breathily, and your hips twitch backwards minutely when he pulls your boxers down too. 

“What do you have in mind,” you ask, to take your mind off how badly you just want to be _bad_ , press back against him and keep pushing until he steps to the side and leaves you desperate with nothing to grind on, makes you beg just for the smallest touches. 

“Well,” he says, “Spread your legs a little--” you obey automatically-- “there’s my good boy.”

That makes you melt a little, and you gasp,

“Yeah, yes, Jihoonie, I’m-- tell me I’m-- _please_.”

“I just said it, babe,” he reminds you, amusement in his voice. He pops open the lube, and chuckles when the sound of the lid makes you twitch. 

“I know,” you say mournfully, not quite whining. “I wanna hear it again though, it--” you flush, but keep going, even if you have to lower your volume some. “It, it feels real good. To know.”

He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and you whimper, knees getting all weak and wobbly. 

“You’re my good boy, Hosh, so sweet and good. Telling me what you want, what you need.”

You whimper, and then his hand is on the inside of your thigh, slick with lube. You arch your back, wrists flexing against the rope that binds them, and he laughs softly at you, pressing you back against the door with a hand on the small of your back. 

“Jihoon,” you say, voice thin and breathy. 

“Look at you,” he says, and you shiver even though it’s dark in here, and you know he can’t really see you. “I’m barely touching you, and you’re already so responsive. It’s hot as hell, I’m so fuckin’ hard, Soonyoung.”

You choke on a moan, and your hips move back towards him before you can stop them. He takes way too much pleasure in shoving you back into the door, but maybe it’s okay, because you’re way too into it too. 

“Feel this?” he whispers, grinding once against your ass, and you make a choked noise, jaw dropping as you struggle to hold yourself up, because he’s _so hard_. He wraps one arm around your waist to hold you up until you can stand on your own again, and you take a deep, shuddery breath. 

“Yeah, god, Jihoon--”

The hand on your thigh moves, and he whispers praise in your ear as he spreads lube all over your thighs. You’re trembling, desperate for something more, but he won’t give it to you, pouring more lube onto his hand and smearing it over your skin. He makes you wait so long, uses so much lube that it starts dripping down your legs, and you have to make him pause so you can step out of your pants and kick them away. And then you realise he’s waiting for something, waiting for _you_.

“Please,” you sigh.

“Mm,” he hums, pulling his hand back to squeeze out more lube onto it. “Please?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I dunno what you’re gonna do, but I want it.”

“You want me to fuck your thighs?” he asks, and you groan. 

“ _Yes_ ,” you hiss out, and he nips playfully at your neck. 

“Say it,” he tells you, voice low and raspy, and you swallow. 

“Want you to fuck my thighs, Jihoonie, c’mon _please_ \-- nh--”

He pulls back and you try to follow, but he shoves you roughly against the door with his left hand, the one that’s got lube all over it, and there’s something about that that’s really hot. 

And then you hear the sound of his zipper, and it’s like the whole room just got a lot hotter and stuffier. You gasp for breath, zoning out a little, and say--

“Jihoon-- Jihoonie-- I think, nh, think that-- unh-- too tight.”

You don’t know if he got that, but a moment later he’s fumbling with the rope on your wrists, pulling something to make the whole knot fall apart, and-- he still holds your hands behind your back, gently massaging your wrists, and you sob. You’re feeling really soft right now, feeling loved and valued and _cared_ for, and it’s kind of wrecking you in the best way.

“You alright?” he asks, and you nod. 

“Love you,” you say, and he huffs out a happy little sigh against your neck. You feel him smile as he keeps rubbing your wrists, and you smile too. 

“Love you too,” he says, voice thick with feeling, and you form half of a heart with one of your hands, waiting for him to complete it. He does, and you hold it for a moment before moving on. 

“Okay,” you say. “Um-- can you tie me back up?”

He hesitates. 

“In the dark... I’m not sure.”

You frown, confused. 

“You did earlier--”

“Well, I wasn’t too hard to _think_ , then. How about you just keep them here on your own?”

You shiver, because that’s pretty hot, but make a face that he can’t see and shrug. 

“I like tugging on it, though. It doesn’t gotta be complicated--”

“Hosh,” he says, tone condescending in a sort of hot way. “Using a real tie is for your own safety, and I don’t know any simpler ones yet--”

“I _know_ ,” you interrupt, desperate, and he clears his throat. A warning. You slump against the door, and start over, more careful with your tone this time. “I know. Your phone’s got a flashlight, you could use that.”

He fumbles for his phone, and switches the flashlight on. You twist to look back over your shoulder at him, and watch as he lifts his phone to his mouth and holds it between his teeth. His frown of concentration is adorable. You smile and shut your eyes, letting him line your wrists up with one another and loop rope around them.

“Okay,” he whispers, turning off his phone flashlight and reaching around you to stick it in the pocket of your hoodie. You shift, tugging against the rope, and groan when the knots hold. “You like it?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.”

You whimper, and grind back just so he’ll shove you forwards again. 

“Please, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “I want you, want you real bad.”

“Oh, god,” he mutters, not pushing you away or even stepping back, and that’s how you know he’s getting desperate too. “Yeah, uh-- yeah. Open your legs, babe.”

You do so, and he groans softly, putting his hands on your ass and squeezing. Your eyes flutter open, and you buck back into his hands, and that’s when he shoves you forwards, letting go with one hand to guide his dick in between your thighs. 

“Mmkay,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down from your hip to press your legs together, and you think he probably could have just thrust in without having you open your legs first, but you know by now that he _really_ likes when you spread your legs for him. 

After a moment he starts moving, and you strain against the rope around your wrists and make a lot of noise, trying to get his attention even though you can’t really speak right now. 

“Mm,” he hums. “You’re so good, Soonyoung.”

You whimper, and grind back to meet his thrusts, gasping when he puts his teeth on your shoulder like he’s gonna bite down and then pulls away. 

“Tease,” you say, kind of astonished, and he hums. You get the feeling he’s not really listening to you right now, and shut your eyes tight, choking on sobs because--

You’re just so hard, and he’s not touching you, and you feel like you might cry. 

“Jihoon,” you choke out. “Jihoonie, please--” his hand clenches on your hip, and you cry out, sobbing his name and slipping down a little against the door. “Touch me,” you plead, and his hand is at your neck--

You melt, going limp against the door, which makes his hand press into your throat for just a moment before he realises and pulls away. You’re kind of a mess, shuddering and crying and begging, and-- why the fuck is he stopping. 

“Shit, are you alright? Did I choke you?”

Your desperation comes up against a wall and stops, still simmering angrily below the surface as you remember that, oh yeah, choking is usually not a good thing. 

“Yeah, you did--”

“Fuck,” he bites out, and you can feel him panicking--

“Shut up,” you say, hoping to shock him into silence before he can jump to too many conclusions. “Listen, listen, I liked it, like a lot, do it again, and for the love of god please touch me--”

“You--” he begins, 

“Yes,” you groan. “I liked it, Jihoon, _please_ \--”

He raises his hand to lightly brush over your throat again, and you whimper, forgetting what words are as you surge against his hand and pout when he pulls it away. 

“Shit,” he says. “Look at you, so pretty and submissive when you want something. You’re practically choking for it.”

You whine, high pitched, and press your hips back. 

“Keep going, Joonie, please.” Your tongue feels clumsy, slurring together the syllables of his name.

He thrusts back in between your thighs, groaning, and you tug on the rope again, probably giving yourself rope burn. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, “fuck, Soonyoung, you feel so good. So fuckin’ wet, so slick. Wish you could see what a mess you are, babe.”

“Gonna be a bigger mess once you come,” you say, wiggling your hips and then huffing frustratedly. “Okay what do I have to do to get you to touch me, I’m--”

“I wonder if you could come like this,” he muses, thrusting harder and putting his hand back on your throat. You choke breathing in even though he’s not pressing down, and he chuckles against your neck, a little mean. 

“No,” you plead. “No, that’d take _hours_ \--”

He shudders, and you know it’s cus you’re framing it like his choice, like all you can do is make your case and hope for the best, but you know he’s not gonna do it; you don’t argue against things when you’re like this unless you mean no.

“We have time,” he says, and you whimper despite yourself. 

“Just touch me,” you plead, voice quiet, and he bites at your neck, ignoring you and fucking your thighs like you didn’t even speak. And his hand is still at your throat. “Jihoon,” you whine. 

“Shit, I’m close,” he rasps out, and you sob, opening your legs because-- you don’t want it to be over yet, don’t want him coming without you. 

His hand tightens on your throat, and you gasp out half your air at once in your shock, hips bucking back and then forwards when his hand wraps around your cock. He strokes once, twice, and squeezes at the same time he squeezes your throat a little tighter, and you’re coming, back arching, arms pulling against the rope around your wrists. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and he releases your throat, stroking you through your orgasm and wiping his hand on your leg and then--

“Legs together,” he commands, and you obey immediately because of the darker tone in his voice, thighs slapping together with a wet sound. “Good,” he says, voice even, satisfied, and you hear what he’s not saying, that you’re being good now but you weren’t just then. 

“Jihoonie,” you say, voice raw, as he tugs your hips towards him and thrusts back between your thighs. “Are you-- please don’t be mad--”

“Mm,” he hums, biting lazily at your neck, and you shiver. “Nah. I was pushing you a little hard, you’re good. You wanna keep going, or would you feel better stopping here?”

“Um,” you say, and hesitate. 

“If you aren’t sure, I think we’d better stop,” he says, voice gentle, as he starts to pull away. You try to reach after him, but you’re stopped by the ropes, and that’s when you realise what the problem is. 

“No, wait,” you say. “Just-- untie me so I can hold onto you, I wanna-- wanna keep going, want you to come on my legs and all that. Make a mess.”

“Shit,” he sighs, undoing the knot with a single tug and pressing into you close. It always amazes you how good he is with rope, how fast he is at tying and untying knots, even when it’s just his earbuds getting tangled in his pocket. You clasp your hand around his as he starts moving again, and whine at the stimulation, even though it’s just your thighs. 

“Jihoon,” you say, feeling kinda shaky. “Tell me I’m good?”

“‘Course,” he replies. “You’re so fuckin’ good, Hosh, so-- _shit_ , so warm and-- you just feel so good.”

“I love you,” you say, squeezing his hand, and he swallows thickly before he says it back. 

“I love you, too. Can you-- talk to me?”

You bite your lip, because you want to do everything he asks you to, but you don’t know if you can focus well enough right now. 

“I-- maybe?”

“It’s fine if you can’t,” he reassures you. “You’re still good if you can’t do all the stuff I want.”

“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 

“Just talk about how it feels, and--”

“Like-- like, you’re-- like how I want you to bite me again and--?”

“Yeah,” he says, losing his rhythm for a few thrusts. “Yeah, _shit_ , Soonyoung. You’re so hot.”

“Mm,” you hum, hips bucking when he bites you. “God, I love your dick. Love how-- how I can feel you so well like this. Like, the way it feels on my thighs--”

You shiver, and break off, unable to continue. 

“Oh my god, Soonyoung,” Jihoon moans, squeezing your hand. “Shit. I’m close. Keep talking?”

“C’mon,” you say, “Give it to me, Jihoonie, wanna hear that sound you always make when you come, want it all on my thighs, wanna be _messy_ \--”

His breath hitches audibly, and you know he’s close, so you keep going,

“Babe, c’mon, need you _so bad_ \--”

“Soonyoung,” he gasps, hips stuttering, hand tightening around yours as he comes. It gets on your thighs, hot and wet and sticky, and you breathe out in a groan. “Fuck,” he says. “ _Fuck_.”

“Yeah,” you say, breathless. “God, that’s good.”

He sighs happily, and turns you around to hug you, and you take the opportunity to straddle his leg and wipe yourself off on him. It stings, since you’re still oversensitive, but the way he squawks upon realising what you’re doing is worth it. You laugh, and he twists the doorknob, causing it to swing open with your weight, and you tumble to the floor, landing on your ass on the fluffy carpet in his room.

“Get up,” he says, smiling at you. “You’re gonna stain my carpet.”

“You’re the one who dumped me on my ass,” you retort, accepting the hand he holds out and letting him pull you up. “Like, clean me off all the way before you let me off the tile, if you care that much about your _vintage shag carpet_.”

“It’s not shag!” he protests, and you smirk at him as you reach over to flick on the closet light.

“Right,” you say brightly. “And _that’s_ not a mullet.”

You cackle at the affronted look on his face as you bend over to pull your pants on, and he frowns.

“Aren’t you gonna wipe off before you--”

“If I did that,” you inform him, zipping up your fly and reaching into your hoodie pocket, where he put his phone after using it as a flashlight. “I might forget to do this.”

You hold Jihoon's phone up just long enough for realisation to dawn on his face and then take off running, and he shouts after you indignantly as you sprint down the hall and take refuge behind the community room couch, which currently holds Mingyu, Vernon, and Chan. The three of them exchange glances, silently electing Mingyu to ask what the fuck.

“Is that Jihoon-hyung’s phone?” he asks, and you grin, holding a finger to your lips to indicate the need for silence.

“Aren’t you worried he’ll murder you, Soonyoung-hyung?” Vernon says conversationally.

You smirk, and say,

“He’ll have to pull his pants up first.”

Chan’s eyes widen. 

“Did you walk in on him--” he begins, and then cuts himself off, apparently unable to continue. He makes a jerking off motion, and you snort.

“Something like that,” you say, winking at Minghao, who just entered. He rolls his eyes, and says to a confused Mingyu,

“Hey, hyung! C’mere, I gotta show you something!”

Mingyu stands, and it’s right about then that Jihoon tears in, and you manage to duck back behind the couch before he sees you.

“Has anyone seen Soonyoung-hyung?” he asks, voice absolutely innocent. 

“No,” Chan says, and you feel a sudden, immense gratitude for his willingness to lie to Jihoon for your sake. “Minghao-hyung was just gonna show Mingyu-hyung something, right?”

“Yeah,” Minghao chimes in, something evil in his voice. “You know the brick wall outside the dorm?”

As grateful as you are to your unit for being so loyal, you really wish Minghao hadn’t found out about that, or at least that he would never bring it up again. Jihoon makes a strangled sound, and then his phone starts ringing in your hand. Joshua’s contact pops up on the screen.

“Aha!” he shouts, and you hear footsteps and the sound of Vernon yelping before Jihoon’s head peeks over the side of the couch. “Thanks, Jisoo-hyung,” he calls, snatching his phone out of your hand and throwing your chapstick at you before disappearing back down the hall. 

“No problem,” you hear, from the general direction of Joshua’s room.

“He didn’t kill you,” Vernon says, flabbergasted.

“It’s ‘cus he loves me,” you explain as you climb out from behind the couch, loudly enough that it’ll carry into Jihoon’s room, and he yells,

“Fuck off,” from down the hall.

You snicker, and Chan and Vernon exchange a vaguely weirded out glance as Minghao ushers Mingyu out the door. You think you’ll go take a shower.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment if you liked this! also i have a [writing twitter](https://twitter.com/coralflower_ao3?s=09) now so follow me if u wanna lol
> 
> i need ppl to follow so if you write smut for bts or svt ships feel free to self promo in your comment (but give me feedback too pls)


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